


Lets Give This A Try

by dinkelbeerrgg



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Small things, beach, honestly the show, lets give this a try shall we
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22568938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinkelbeerrgg/pseuds/dinkelbeerrgg
Summary: One-off to help clear my own head.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	Lets Give This A Try

The music was too loud. Dean knew it and didn't do a damn thing about it. It was at that volume where there was just a little bit of static to be heard under the music, coming from his own ears as their way of protesting the loud cords. But Bon Jovi didn't seem to care and neither did Dean. Sam had scoffed when that had been the track that Dean had chosen to play, but now he was lost in the music. Cas was looking lost as ever but he had a smile on his face that had been plastered there for the last two songs so Dean kind of figured he was going okay.  
This had all been just a happy accident. They had been working a witch craft-type case in a pawnshop off the coast of San Diego. It had been bloody, all cases with witches were, and they were all desperate to forget it. Forget the woman who had choked on bleach fresh from her just-opened can of Fanta. Forget that a man had been impaled on an apparently very pointy banana. Forget all the bizarre things that go along with witch magic. Add it all to the vault of awful that took up most of their memories at this point.  
Dean couldn't remember the last time they had been near the beach and was not going to waste the opportunity. He had chosen a motel in Imperial Beach that was definitely more than their usual digs. But he had decided the same moment he saw the never-ending blue of the ocean that this was going to be special. They needed a break, but no one was going to admit that, so Dean was determined to turn this into a working vacation. While same researched, looking for the previous owners of the items that proved witchy, Dean had gone to one of those cheesy tourist stores and gotten them all swim trunks each with its own obnoxious print. He hadn't told the other two where he was going, claiming he was going to get food and hesitantly refusing Cas' pleading look when he had offered to come with. He wanted this to be a surprise. Mostly because he knew they would both shoot him down, his only hope was to prepare things so the moment they were off the case, he could fall into relax mode and drag the other two with him kicking and screaming.  
He couldn't refuse Cas the second time, his hair tousled by the sea wind, and that's how they both ended up in an abandoned house stuck to the ceiling bleeding from their eyes. This old bitch was really getting on Dean's nerves. He honestly could sympathize with her, a gang had wrecked her business because she had refused to pay them for nothing. The damages to her shop cost too much to fix and she went bankrupt. And so she sold her things to the pawnshop that one of the gang member's brothers owned that sometimes doubled as their hangout. But now she was targeting them, and Dean felt rage bubble in him as he watched tears of blood drip from Cas' face. Sam had shot her through the already broken window with those special bullets they spent hours making back at the bunker.  
They fell to the ground with a thud and Dean felt his brain rattle just a bit on impact. He had no immediate desire to get up so he ignored the dead witch still in the center of her markings and looked over to see Cas rolling over to get a better look at him. He must have hit his face on the hard floor because his lip was bleeding but his eyes were clear of any tears as he looked Dean over in the same way he was looking over Cas. They shared a moment on that floor just catching their breath until Sam came in and helped them to their feet. At least there was no projectile vomiting this time.  
They were dirty and bloody and Dean was ready to set his plan in motion despite the late hour. If they couldn't get fun in the sun they would get drunk fun under the stars. But before that could happen they needed to get the rest of the witches hex bags from her things in the pawnshop. Just because she was dead didn't guarantee that the magic couldn't still work and they were not about to leave something like that to fate. And that is where Dean noticed the record player behind the counter. One of those new compact ones with a plastic case painted to look like a waving American flag. Dean didn't think about the type of person who used to own the record player, he just picked it up and looked around for some records. Sam gave him a look, like stealing was the worst thing they had done that night, and Dean had adamantly said that he was trying to get the poor machine a better life, along with the five or six records he had shoved into Cas' arms. Cas had looked disapproving but resigned after less than a second.  
Dean stopped at a gas station on the way back to their motel. It took a lot of convincing to get Sam to go in and buy double their normal amount of beer. Sam was the only one not covered in blood so Dean just had to hope he would actually get the beer and not come back with a lecture ready about how they really should eat better and drink less. Cas had given Dean a questioning look after Sam had gotten out of the car and Dean just smiled a too-bright smile back him. The questioning look had only deepened on his face and Dean had to make an effort not to laugh as a genuine smile took over his face for just a moment.  
Sam had come through with a twenty-four pack of cheap beer and a bottle of scotch that used to be a frequent visitor of Bobby's desk. Things were turning out better than Dean had anticipated and he was actually getting excited. They got back to the motel and he let Cas clean up first. Dean sat on the stiff bed, leg shaking with anticipation, beer chilling in the too-small mini-fridge. It felt like Cas was taking ages to get all the blood off of himself so Dean busied himself by setting up the record player. Cas emerged shiny and new just as Dean figured out the dials. His trench coat hung loosely around his crisp white shirt and Dean took his selfish moment to breathe in the ivory scent coming off of him from the motel soap. Dean forced himself to look down and willed thought to renter his brain. Still flustered, he told Sam to pick a record, grabbed his backpack, and went to shower.  
With the steam from his short shower still fogging the mirror, Dean looked at his blurry reflection and honestly felt like a handsome idiot. And he could roll with that. He took the other two pairs of swim trunks out of his backpack and fixed his shirt one last time before opening the door wide. Sam didn't look up from his computer but Dean was pleased to see that he was already drinking a beer and the low notes of Aerosmith coming quietly out of the record player. Cas, on the other hand, was starring at Dean's brightly colored shorts with his head tilted to the side and furrowed brows. Dean laughed and threw the pair of trunks covered in bananas in his face. Cas turned his stare onto the offending trunks and Dean threw the pair of trunks that were just bright multicolored shapes into Sam's laptop.  
"Wardrobe change fellas," Dean said as he crossed the room to get himself and Cas a beer. "We need a vacation and I say we start right now." He took that amazing first sip of cold beer and held the other one out to Cas and waited for a reply.  
"Dean, did you plan this?" Sam asked as Cas took the extended beer.  
"I've put some thought into it." Dean kept drinking to try and give the others some time to reply. He waited for the denial and he could see it coming from Sam.  
"I have never worn anything like this, is it supposed to have a net on the inside?" Cas asked, interrupting the brothers staring each other down. Dean only smiled at Cas while he inspected the foreign piece of clothing. "Is there a reason that the ones you handed me are covered in fruit?" Sam laughed at that, and Dean was glad to see his resolve break.  
"All right, but I'm not leaving this room." Sam gave Dean a half-smile and closed his laptop. "And why are these mine? You get the classic palm trees and I get 90's bus seat patterns?"  
"Oh well, these go better with my skin tone," Dean gave Sam a cheeky smile and went to look through the records. Sam went to the bathroom to change, but Cas looked between the bathroom door and Dean. The lost puppy look was heart-melting, so Dean pretended to be completely absorbed in the records. He turned to give Cas as much privacy as he could.  
Dean was just putting on the record he chose and turned around to see Sam looking for all the world like a bus seat and Cas, button-down shirt tucked into the swim trunks, looking like the most confused tourist ever. Dean couldn't remember the last time he had smiled so much in one day. And so Dean cranked up the record player and flipped Sam off when he scoffed at Bon Jovi when the music came bursting out.  
Things started slow. They drank a few more cans, damn Dean hated beer from a can, but it was getting the job done. After some convincing, Dean pressured Sam into a bet that resulted in them both shotgunning three beers to the tune of Have A Nice Day. But Dean was faster and so Sam had to take the first shot. When Cas sniffed the bottle and winced, they all but forced him into taking three shots more to "get a taste for it".  
And now, actually drunk for the first time in ages, they sang along loudly and danced badly. Dean loosened Cas's tie and marveled at the blue of his eyes against the red that stained his cheeks and forehead from the alcohol. He looked over to see his brother twirling in slow circles with his eyes closed and Dean realized this was the third time they had heard Never Say Goodbye. Cas put a hand on Dean's waist and Dean realized he was still holding onto the man by his tie. Dean looked back to Cas's face and was startled to see how large the other man's pupils had become. They stayed like that for a little too long. Dean panicked. And so he picked up the lyrics and did a little two-step out of Cas's reach. He wasn't sure how to feel about the look that was left on the man's face but he smiled anyway.  
He drank down a fresh can in three gulps after that.  
He danced with the both of them, going on tiptoes to spin Sam. He got lost in the music despite the fact that the record had just started again for the fourth time. They laughed a lot, but Dean couldn't forget the feeling of Cas's hand on his waist. Like it was burnt there along with the handprint that used to be one his shoulder.  
He was now very drunk. They had just finished the bottle of scotch only a few minutes ago, or had it been longer? It didn't matter. Everything was fuzzy and his fingers felt like they were only attached to his body by sewing string. But damn it was hot. And humid. He was sweating through his shirt and only just realized. Thankfully he was wearing black. Cas, on the other hand, had almost transparent patches under his arms and around his collar and only then did Dean remember they were in San Diego; the land of hot and sweaty. But that would mean the ocean was right there. Dean suddenly remembered the location of their motel room and looked at the sliding glass doors that would lead him to the beach.  
Dean wobbled to the door and the other two quickly realized his intentions. Sam put his hand on the glass door and Dean huffed.  
"I.. I am going out therrrr," Dean slurred.  
"Nope," Sam replied.  
"Yup," and Dean pushed past him easily. There wasn't a cooling breeze to welcome him but there was a breeze and that was all he wanted. It smelled like salt and sand and the stars were bright. Sam and Cas followed him out and were equally as enthralled by the different surroundings. Sam sat on a lounge chair with a loud sigh and put his arms behind his head. Dean kept going, jumping clumsily over the short wall the separated the beach from the rest of the world. He was mildly surprised to hear a soft grunt and turned to see Cas trying to get one foot over the wall without falling over. Dean laughed and walked back a few steps to offer him a hand. Cas took it with a shameful look on his face and a mumbled thanks. They walked but the sand proved to be too much for them both. After Dean had actually fallen to his knees, Cas had offered him a hand. It was too dark not too really see but Dean thought he was smiling, so he smiled too. Dean was too aware of Cas's fingers and the fact that he didn't react at all when Dean didn't let go.  
They continued walking in relative silence, Bon Jovi still barely audible from where it played through their open motel room door. It was like another planet out here. The sound of waves mixed with the soft tunes coming from behind them. The sand was soft under their toes and became cooler with every step. Dean closed his eyes the moment the cold water touched his feet. Cas's hand was suddenly out of his own and he missed the comfortable feeling. But he couldn't be too upset as he noticed Cas bending to pick up shells that had rolled in with the tide. Dean let his drunken instincts take charge. He took his shirt off, threw it, and watched it disappear into the darkness. Dean waited for Cas to stand again and turned to him. He could barely see the small shell that Cas was offering to him but he took it anyway.  
"Thank you, Cas," Dean said softly and pocketed the precious trinket. He reached out and fumbled for the tie loose around the man's neck. Dean lifted it gently over Cas's head, trying and failing to not get it stuck on the many bumps of the human head. They laughed when it got hooked on Cas's ear. Cas took over from there and simply dropped the tie into the ocean. Dean was contemplating exactly how many buttons were on his damn shirt when Cas just started walking. Dean stared after him for a minute, this white shirt easy to see in the moonlight. Cas turned and looked back at Dean. That was all he needed to start moving. He took the few steps with reverence. The water licked at his bare belly and it was probably the alcohol but Dean could swear he felt the world shift as he took Cas's hand once again. Like it was the most natural thing to do.


End file.
